


The Cracked Ice

by Ange_de_la_Mort



Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: Bloodplay, Community: norsekink, M/M, Rape Role-play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-17
Updated: 2012-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-02 02:42:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ange_de_la_Mort/pseuds/Ange_de_la_Mort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor takes quite desperate measures to get Loki naked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cracked Ice

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing to see here. Just another [norsekink](http://norsekink.livejournal.com/6420.html?thread=11731476#t11731476) fill.

Loki should have known better, should have expected the attack. It wasn’t safe in the woods outside the palace grounds, what with all kinds of wild animals and bandits who would love to get their hands on a prince of Asgard. Really, he should have known better. But obviously, he hadn’t, or he wouldn’t have frozen when a hand his wrist and twisted his arm painfully on his back while another hand clasped over his mouth, so that he could neither snarl at his attacker nor say the magic words to turn the imbecile into a pig. For a moment, he considered going for his throwing daggers, but stopped mid-motion when he felt lips brushing his left ear.

“It is unwise to play all alone. Don’t you agree, little prince?”

Loki allowed himself a small smile as he recognized the voice. For as much as he tried, the “Mighty” Thor couldn’t fool his brother for a second. Admittedly, it had been some time since they’d played together, and it seemed that his beloved brother had decided to remedy this …

The hand over his mouth disappeared and Loki gasped, deciding to play along. “What do you want?”

There was no answer. Instead, a moist piece of cloth was pressed against his mouth and nose. When he breathed in, he thought the smell was somehow familiar. Then he was able to recognize it as one of the many healing potions prescripted against insomnia or otherwise troubled sleep. He thought that Thor must have planned this for quite some time. Then he felt his limbs grow heavy and his world go dark and he thought nothing at all anymore.

When he awoke again, he tried to open his eyes, but to no avail. Darkness was all around him, keeping him company in the silence where he could only hear his own breathing. It took a moment or two until he realized that he was blindfolded. And chained. Yes, that as well. He could feel the cold metal of the shackles burning uncomfortably into the flesh of his wrists, and when he tried to move his arms, they didn’t give in even a single inch.

Interesting, he thought and let out a sigh while leaning his head back against the wall. Of course, such bindings couldn’t hold him if he really meant to escape, but for now, he chose to play along with whatever little game his brother had come up with.

Thinking of the devil … there were footsteps to be heard, a door pushed open with a creaking sound that hurt Loki’s ears. And then Thor was looming over him - at least, he imagined Thor to be looming and smiling that stupid smile which always made Loki want to kiss him and punch him in the face at the same time. “Have you slept well, little prince?” Loki heard him say cockily (with just a hint of real concern, which made Loki scoff and roll his eyes underneath the blindfold).

“Why, yes. Thank you,” he said with a smirk. “How very kind of you to ask.” Then he shrugged his shoulders as much as he could with his arms bound above his head. “But enough with kind words. What do you want fro me?”

“Tell me the way to the palace vault.”

Ah. A question to which Thor already knew the answer, so that there would be no harm done and no secrets spilled. How very considerate. How very surprising. “No. And now, release me at once before any of this gets to my brother and father.”

He could hear the rustle of clothing as Thor shifted and knelt down beside him. Then, strong fingers grabbed his chin forcibly, making him wince. A tongue traced the shell of his ear. “Yes. Your dear family. Always helping you, always fighting your fights, always saving you. Well, they aren’t here now, are they?” Fingers were fiddling with his pockets, and when Loki snarled at him to not fucking touch him, Thor just laughed. “What are you going to do? Nick me with one of your little toys?”

Sure enough, he pilfered one of Loki’s throwing daggers out of his coat and held the sharp edge of the blade to Loki’s throat.

He gritted his teeth when he could feel the metal - not cold, of course not, it had been close to his body - on his skin, pressing against his adam’s apple. He didn’t dare to suffer, didn’t even dare to breathe- When he tried to get away by retreating against the wall, the blade simple followed suit.

“You should be ashamed,” Thor wispered into his ear. “You call yourself a prince, yet you fight with toys and witchcraft like a fragile wiman. Are you a woman, little prince?”

Loki could feel his face flush crimson red in anger and embarassement and if he didn’t know that Thor was just taunting him, he would kill right here and now, brother or not. He wanted to answer, wanted to hurt and insult with his sharp, merciless tongue and choice of words, but could only gasp as a hand snuck between his legs and cupped his cock through his pants, applying pressure and tugging at his balls. Quickly, he bit his lips to refrain from groaning in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“I see,” Thor said and laughed, “so you are not a maiden, then. You only fight like one.” He laughed again and brought his lips close to Loki’s ear, nipped it with his teeth. “This is your last chance to talk, maiden prince. Or I will make you talk.”

There were a lot of ways to respond. Loki chose the one where he simply smiled and promised pain and castration if so much as a finger were to be laid at him. Surprisingly enough, the dagger disappeared from his throat. Just for a moment, although, before his shirt was cut apart with a ripping sound. “Have you lost your mind?” Loki snapped and inhaled sharply when he felt the tingling burn of the blade nicking the flesh of his chest. It was nothing more than a small cut, barely even stinging after a second. Only when Thor brushed over the cut with a thumb, he gave a hiss at the pain.

It shouldn’t be the last line carved into his chest. Steady fingers held the blade, carving patterns and words while chuckling and laughing at Loki’s discomfort.

Still, Loki did not crack, didn’t spill a single secret, didn’t ask or plead or beg for Thor to stop, for he knew very well that there would follow a part of this game which he’d like to experience. If he stopped now, there would only be the Healing Room and nothing else. Also, he wanted to prove a point. Thor had insulted him (was still doing it this very moment), so Loki had to show he wasn’t weak at all.

Soon enough, the blade stilled. Was drawn away from his body. Instead, blunt fingers and fingernails scratched over the cuts, tearing them open and making Loki scream and arch his back in futile attempts to escape the pain. The assault didn’t stop - quite the contrary - while Loki was seeing stars underneath the blindfold and his throat was sore and hoarse from screaming.

He was shuddering, sucking in his breath in shaky gasps. Breathing hurt. Everything hurt, if he were to be honest (which he wasn’t, not now at least). His arms were tired and aching and, surely, there were marks on his wrists where he had struggled against the chains. Tears had turned the blindfold even darker. His nose was running and he whimpered slightly when he felt a hand on his face, even though Thor was only caressing his cheek and brushing away some of the tears.

If he were to be honest (which he amost was, which he would be if only the pain could stop), he would give up now, let Thor take him to the Healing Room and just sleep until his wounds would vanish.

If he were to be honest (which, really, he was because he had no other choice), he would confess that the hoarse, almost inaudible sounds coming out of his mouth were little pleas for mercy.

Soothingly, Thor’s fingers - wet with tears and blood - stroked the back of his neck, the spot directly under his hairline, where, as he knew, Loki was sensitive to the touch.

“You’re a strong boy, my maiden prince. I am unsure whether to reward or to punish you for this.”

“Brother, please,” Loki whispered, because the prospect of more tears, more agony was simply terrifying. But a finger was pressed to his lips and a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Your brother isn’t here. But do not worry, for I am as much a generous man as he is. I will not hurt you further, little prince.”

A pause, a silence which Loki didn’t understand. What was the point of all of this?

“Well then,” Thor said in a stern, commanding voice, “spread your legs.”

Loki’s face flushed crimson as he complied, drawing his knees to his chest and turning his face away, for he could almost physically feel Thor’s gaze linger greedily upon him, even though there was nothing to see. Yet. Obviously, Thor intended to change that, for Loki could feel the seams of his pants be cut and ripped open. Well, now he was definetely blushing.

Thor laid two fingers against his lips and said in that stern tone (which he really should use more often, Loki thought): “Suck. Thoroughly. This will be all the preparation you get.”

So he did. He sucked the digits into his mouth, tasted his own blood - coppery and rich and thick and consuming, overwhelming his senses. Carefully, he traced the fingertips with his tongue, coating them in saliva, sucking and nibbling.

This… this would be good, would make him scream and moan and beg. He was already shivering in anticipation and whimpered as Thor withdrew his fingers. As they slid between his cheeks, he couldn’t stifle a greedy plea.

“You want this,” Thor whispered into his ear. “You need this.” It was not a question. Of course not. Any question would’ve been unnecessary, since Loki was nodding hastily and saying yes, yes, please, stick them inside, take me, need this, need you, please.

“Tell me what I want to know.”

“What?” It was more of a sob than a question as Loki moved his hips and tried to no avail to force the fingers into him.

“You heard me,” came the answer, Thor’s voice sounding cold and arrogant. “Tell me, and I will take you like the whore you are.”

And so he did. He talked. He spilled every secret of the palace and was already starting to babble and stammer and stutter about the secrets of the royal family when the fingers finally plunged into him, making him whelp because of the sudden intensity.

“You were as strong as you could be,” Thor said and proceeded to thrust and curl his fingers inside of him “you are a fine boy,” he said while kissing Loki’s jaw and lips and neck.

“Please!” Loki cried. “I need…” Yes, what did he need? Anything. Everything. He needed more and harder and deeper and - at the same time - needed Thor to comfort him, wrap his arms around Loki in a crushing hug and tell him that everything was alright, that Loki did not fail some kind of test, that he was still worthy of Thor’s trust and Thor’s love.

In the end, he should get all of it.

With every stroke of those fingers, every time the point inside of him that made him see hotwhiteburning stars was abused so wonderfully, he cried out and tried to impale himself deeper on Thor’s remarkably skillful fingers.

“You really are a whore,” his brother, who wasn’t his brother right now, said and chuckled. He brought his lips close to Loki’s neck, sinking his teeth into the tender flesh and laughed at the strangled and desperate sounds coming out of Loki’s throat. Another finger found its way inside Loki and together they stretched and scratched his inner walls to the point where he wasn’t sure what was still pleasure and what was beginning to hurt.

“How many? How many have taken you? How often have you spread your legs and let your mouth escape those lewd sounds?”

Not once. Too often. Each and every day. Never. Did it matter? What did matter at all? He thought… no, he couldn’t think and there was nothing to think about, anyway. There was this and now and oh, please, don’t stop and he screamed all over his release as he came without his cock being touched even once, spasms rippling through his body and thick strings of his own seed dirtying his chest and face and neck.

Thor chuckled and pressed a kiss to Loki’s temple as he withdrew the fingers and lifted the blindfold off him.

He blinked a few times, the sudden brightness hurting his eyes like redhot needles, piercing his skin, and when he looked up, he could only see adoration in Thor’s eyes.

With the blindfold gone, the shackles were to follow suit, and Loki winced as his aching muscles were pulled taunt when he tried to move his arms and look at his bleeding wrists. With a small sigh he lket his hands fall into his lap. “You ruined my clothes,” he said, smiling when he really meant to say ‘Thank you’ and ‘I really needed this’ and ‘I love you’.

“You will live,” Thor responded, and Loki could hear ‘You’re welcome’ and ‘I know’ and ‘I love you too’. He draped a blanket over him, warm and comfortable, and sweeped him up into his arms, holding him close to his chest. “Let’s bring you home, brother.”

“We might be seen.”

“We might.”

He rested his head lazily against Thor’s shoulder, snuggling up to it like a kitten that was tired from playing. “What will you tell _them_?”

“The truth. That you were abducted and tortured and that you are the bravest warrior of us all.”

Loki couldn’t help but smile, even as he closed his eyes and doze off, curled up into Thor’s firm and gentle grasp.

Thanks to a trip to the Healing Room, no scars were permanently left on Loki’s skin. But even if there had been, he would have worn them with pride.


End file.
